It was spring in NYC, circa 1986. I was ambling down Broadway, heading to an improv class at Music and Art High School, when I stopped in some overpriced bodega around 70th Street to pick up a pack of gum. Standing at the counter, his dry cleaning slung over his shoulder, was Roy Scheider. It was a B-celeb sighting, even back in the day, but a sighting nevertheless.
Still, like any self-respecting New Yorker, I ignored Roy completely until he turned and knocked over the five-tiered gum/mint display. Tic Tacs and Wrigleyâ€™s went skittering across the floor, and the Read more